


Take Me Home

by Not_You



Series: one only understands the things that one tames [25]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Daddy/girl, F/M, First Time, Frottage, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Morning Sex, Nipple Play, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Talking About Relationships, scar kink, talking about body modification, world-building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1412791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick doesn't actually mean to ask Natasha to come home with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nick doesn't actually mean to ask Natasha to come home with him. But he's on his way out when she eases up beside him in that way only a trained spy can manage so gracefully. “Leaving, sir?”

“I am, Romanov. I hope you all have a wonderful evening.”

“And you, sir.” She moves a little closer as she speaks and tilts her head just so, offering the barest suggestion of vulnerability. It's utterly calculated and Nick knows it, knows what a delicate instrument Natasha's whole affect is. The thought that she's willing to show him this makes his heart give a suspicious little wobble. He reaches for her and makes the gesture a question the way it is every time, far too delighted with her answer, which is to let him put a hand on her shoulder and smile slightly.

“Prospects of that might improve with the right company,” he hears himself say. He is too old for this. And for Natasha, but here he is, going a little weak in the knees with how _happy_ she looks, taking his hand and kissing it.

“Your comfort means a great deal to me, sir,” she says softly, and gets her coat, taking a moment to let Steve know where she's going for security reasons as well as fretful dom reasons. After transforming and nearly killing Natasha, Bruce takes a special interest in her welfare and whereabouts. Nick can relate, and kills a few moments studying a little sketch of Steve's that someone, probably Pepper, has put up. It's good work, catching the details of the little still-life grouping he had made out of Natasha's widow's bite, Tony's phone, and various other accoutrements of the team. It's sweet, which isn't something Nick thinks very often. Well, except about Natasha, who reappears at his side with a shy little smile. “Ready, sir.”

“Good girl,” Nick says softly, and wraps his hand around one of those delicate wrists, gently towing her out and into the elevator. When the door is safely shut behind them, she coos and leans into Nick, insinuating herself inside his coat and looking up at him again like she's not quite sure he's all right with it. Nick has never been a very syrupy dom, but he kisses her forehead and softly tells her again that she's a good girl, holding her close. The way she relaxes all over is wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time, and Nick just has to kiss her again. “It's okay, baby girl,” he murmurs, and Natasha whimpers a little, hiding her face in his chest. Nick shivers, a little surprised to still be able to react to a sub like this. Christ, maybe this is some kind of late-life crisis. Holding Natasha's soft warmth in his arms, Nick is pretty sure that he doesn't really care.

Being the director of SHIELD Nick could probably get himself chauffeured to the bathroom if he wanted it, but he really doesn't. He likes to drive, and he likes being the only one to witness the adorable, feline way Natasha curls herself into the shotgun seat. They drive in silence. Nick is beginning to think that this is a spy thing, that when you've worked in espionage too long you just shut up when you're with someone that matters, because it's way easier to tell the truth without words. Natasha eventually leans forward and switches on the radio, smiling as _Shackles_ starts to play. It's a favorite of Clint's, and one of the first things he had shared with her. Nick knows this because early on Phil hadn't been able to help reporting on the adorable doings of the two subs in his house, such as Clint teaching Natasha every single lyric of _Shackles_ and a few relevant dance moves. Nick has always known that if he was a sub he would be part of the 'shackles don't mean the same thing to all of us' camp, but the song is a pretty good little sub power jam. And Natasha's little car-dance to it is goddamn adorable.

Nick has been pretty sure that by the time he unlocks his own door he'll know what he's going to do, but the moment disappoints. He has no idea what the fuck he's doing, but he is Nick Fury and this is far from the first time. He goes with his instincts, which tell him to get drinks for both of them and then to settle on the couch. He doesn't actually have anything for her to kneel on, but the living room is carpeted and she settles at his feet without a moment's hesitation. Nick smiles and hands her glass to her. He likes hand-feeding subs almost as much as Phil does, but he also wants to drink his own damn beer. Between the branding and the after party both being traditionally (and in deference to Bruce's mental state) dry, he could really use it. Two swigs in he looks down at Natasha, who's smiling softly at him over the rim of her vodka tonic.

“It's good to have you here,” he tells her, and she leans into his leg, cooing when he starts to stroke her hair with his free hand.

“And is that all, sir?”

“It's all I need. This couch folds out.”

“I couldn't possibly make you do that to your back, sir,” Natasha says, grinning.

“That's sweet of you, baby.” She actually blushes at that, and Nick hopes that whatever seems to be happening in his chest is entirely emotional.

They end up sharing his bed, Nick in his skull-and-crossbones boxers (a gift from Phil) and his patch, Natasha down to a pair of little red panties that are going to haunt Nick's dreams and one of his roughly six thousand Real Doms Choose Respect t-shirts. Nick isn't much of a bleeding heart, but he does donate to DFA every year and the shirts he gets in return are seriously comfortable. Natasha seems to agree, snuggling up to him and making a happy little noise.

“Sir?” she asks, both of them about one quarter asleep.

“Yeah?”

“How would you mark a sub?”

“Mm. Not branding, I'll tell you that.”

“Oh?”

He pictures a hot brand hitting Natasha's silky skin and shudders in revulsion, holding her a little closer. “No. Too heavily used in the slave trade.” He kisses the top of Natasha's head, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I'm not gonna argue with anyone's motherfuckin' choices or anything, and of course Phil and Clint's ceremony was goddamn beautiful, but it's not something I'd ever do.”

“I see,” Natasha says, kissing the hollow of his throat.

“I've always thought that I'd use ink. Something intricate and beautiful.”

“Mm.” Natasha bites gently, and he has to close his eyes for a moment. “Would you take a mark in return, sir?”

“Yeah. Phil and I agree about things like that. Besides, I've been marked without my consent by enemies. I'd like something pretty.”

Natasha starts to kiss the scars on his chest. “Your scars are beautiful, sir. They show your strength.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, because there's nothing else to say. Natasha has nowhere near as many physical scars as Nick does, but there are a few very low on her back and to the side. It's sort of the top of her ass but not quite, just hidden by a backless dress, but Nick knows it's there. He runs his fingertips over the lines of gleaming white scar tissue, level with the rest of Natasha's flawless skin. “I would want to be scarified,” he says, something he hasn't really told anyone but Phil. “Because it's actually African, and more permanent than ink.”

“I think it would look beautiful, sir,” Natasha says, nuzzling her face into his chest like a friendly cat. 

He chuckles, petting her. “Maybe so.” He yawns, getting settled even more comfortably. “Collar and ring first, though.”

Natasha giggles. “Naturally.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nick wakes up to Natasha pressed against him, her legs tangled with his, one sleek and deadly thigh pressed right up against one of the few parts of Nick that still works properly and doesn't ache when it rains. He grits his teeth and does his best not to moan. “Tasha?” He mumbles. “Baby girl, you awake?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers, and now Nick is doing his best to just keep breathing. He rolls onto his back, pulling Tasha with him because he likes having a blanket made of a cute little sub. She squeaks and giggles, and it's fucking adorable. Nick nuzzles her tousled hair and purrs, tipping his head back when she kisses his throat. It's a subby gesture, but there's no confusion here. Natasha trembles to be trusted so much, whimpers softly when she reaches his chest and he holds her there, guiding her to one hard nipple. She kisses it first, then sucks it into the wet heat of her mouth, falling into a rhythm of long, slow pulls that go straight to his cock. Nick groans and holds her there with a hand on the back of her neck. “You like that, Daddy?” Natasha murmurs, and Nick shudders.

“Yeah, girl. I like that a lot.” He gives her hair a little tug, and she mewls, rocking her hips against him. Her warmth is maddening through two pairs of underwear, and Nick growls, rolling them over. “Color, baby?” He asks, shoving the over-sized t-shirt over her head without guiding her arms out of the sleeves.

“Green, Daddy,” she says, whining helplessly as he uses the shirt to bind her wrists together and then to the headboard.

“Still good?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He takes a long time just to kiss her and play with her perfect tits, squeezing and stroking and licking. His last two subs were boys, and it feels like that was a thousand years ago, anyway. Natasha wriggles and lets out breathy little squeals that he feels well beyond privileged to hear, moaning as he pinches her pink little nipples hard, rolling them between thumb and forefinger as Natasha squirms.

“H-hurts, Daddy,” she whimpers, and, “hurts good,” before he can ask, arching her back and pushing her chest up into his hands. He hurts her a little more and then kisses it better and soothes her nipples in the cups of his palms. Natasha groans and wraps her legs around him, their grip possessive and desperate. Nick growls and kisses her, rutting hard against her, gripping her ass with one hand and her hair with the other. It's frustrating, grinding this way, but it's good, too. Natasha bucks and writhes under him, struggling a little against the shirt and whimpering, “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me fuck me _fuck me_ —” she cuts herself off with a helpless, broken cry, and Nick groans, kissing her quiet.

“Ssshh. It's okay, baby girl. Daddy's gonna make it better.” He hasn't needed any of his condoms in a long time, but they're still fresh and he kicks his boxers aside and rolls one on, wincing a little at how sensitive he is. Natasha watches, rapt and hungry. Nick smiles, and kisses her before finally peeling those panties off. He wants to bury his face between Natasha's deadly thighs and fill his head with the taste of her, but she begs for his cock again and this time he gives it to her, wrapping his hand around the shaft and rubbing the head up and over her slit. He means to tease her more than he gets to, because she's so wet she just swallows him up, inner lips spreading like fans before hugging his cock. Nick groans and sinks into her. She's able to take all of him with a little maneuvering, and they both moan as the head of his cock pushes up behind her cervix. He grinds in good and deep, wanting to stretch her out and feel all of her, and she whimpers, legs hugging him more tightly than ever.

“Oh, _Daddy_...”

Nick groans, kissing her again. He cradles the back of Natasha's head in one hand, the other thumb stroking her clit as he starts to fuck her deep and fast, consumed with the idea of filling her up. Natasha whines and holds on, squeezing tight around him and god, Nick had forgotten how good cunt can feel. He tells her so and she comes, crying out, the sound high and breathless and loud enough to fill the room. Nick shudders and keeps moving, because he remembers that much about fucking women, that most of them don't mind if you keep going. Natasha hisses and whines like she's oversensitive, but gives him a glassy-eyed smile and coos, “Grrreen,” when he looks into her eyes preparatory to asking for a color. Since he doesn't have to ask, he just kisses her instead, pounding into her until he comes so hard that he's a little worried it won't stop. It does at last, though, and he slumps onto Natasha, moaning quietly, the breathless silence of his climax finally broken. She just rests under him for a long time before gently prodding him with one knee and wriggling a bit.

“You're heavy, sir.”

“Mm. Yeah.” He rolls off of her and stretches lazily before unknotting the shirt and pulling it back down. “So, you want first or second shower?”

“Can we share a shower, sir?”

Nick pauses. “Yeah. Yeah, I think there's room.” He's still a little weird about letting people see his bad eye, but what the hell. This has already gotten way too serious and Natasha is sure to see it sooner or later, anyway. Once he has a towel and Natasha has two, he sets his patch on the counter. Natasha understands scars, and presses a kiss to the corner of Nick's white, staring eye. He sighs, and pulls her close under the hot cascade of the shower. They do actually clean themselves and each other, but there are a few detours, one of them another orgasm for Natasha as tenderly washing the lips of her cunt turns into a hands-on demonstration of how best to stroke her clit. At last they're clean, though, and Nick can move onto the next point of order.

“How do you like your eggs?” He asks as Natasha sits at his kitchen island, toweling her hair. It's getting long again, and Nick is never sure if he likes this or the bob better. Phil has said something about Clint introducing Natasha to the benefits of scrambled eggs that are as much cheese as egg, but today she says any kind is all right, and Nick ends up making egg-in-a-frame for both of them, because he has the stuff for it. He doesn't have too much else, but manages to dig out some frozen potato patties to heat in the oven, and finds that one of the grapefruits is still good, so they can split it. He's a little appalled to have come to this, throwing out rotten citrus as his girl watches, but she just laughs and helps to make sure that nothing burns, as useful here as she is in the field.


End file.
